


I'm A Nervous Wreck (Oh, Hell Yes) (Fall Out Boy)

by RockWithItWriting



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, fob - Fandom
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:18:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RockWithItWriting/pseuds/RockWithItWriting
Summary: requested by @locke-writes : I fuckin love your writing request 1 Hanging with the FOB boys because your all fans of each other and working on a new song together and just jamming the fuck outword count: 561warnings: n/a





	I'm A Nervous Wreck (Oh, Hell Yes) (Fall Out Boy)

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The studio is silent and dark when you first enter, turning on lights as you go. Your drink is warm in your hand and the seat is cold when you sit, waiting. You have an appointment with the founder of your record label which is nerve-wracking in itself, but you’ve admired him from afar since your wee teenage years.

It’s strange how your anxiety manifests as you wait in your studio: you’re still and silent, blinking slowly and breathing in a controlled manner. Your mother always said it was weird. She was always high-strung, shaking and taking small, shallow breaths whenever she got anxious. But you were always still, calm, controlled.

Maybe that’s why you’re a musician.

You’re thinking about that when the men file into the room, silent and creeping. The way it feels to be on stage, to feel the weight of the microphone in your hand, to know that everyone is there for you. You notice Pete first. He’s approaching you quickly, mouth moving, hand out and you have absolutely no idea what he’s saying. He takes your hand as you look up with him with saucer-eyes.

You do what you do best: you improvise. Laughing as Pete pulls you into a hug, you can hear what he’s saying again - and he’s not even speaking to you. He’s explaining how you came to be signed to the label he founded and then explaining to you. Pete Wentz is explaining you to the rest of Fall Out Boy, and you feel like you’ve been stuck in the twilight zone. They’re agreeing, reminding Pete that they were there when he found your Youtube channel and you can feel your face pale.

How many of those were covers of their songs? How many covers did you have of Patrick’s album? Did- did they still talk regularly to Brendon? You had covered almost every one of his albums - Frank Iero, too! Teeth chattering, you finally spoke.

“Yeah, Michael’s told me all about working with you guys.” Michael, your manager, had done no such thing but would go along with it if asked. The band looks toward one another before grinning, it’s scary that they do that.

“Only good things, I hope.” Patrick steps forward and shakes your hand, retreating and tucking his hands into his sleeves after you’re done squeezing his hand. Joe and Andy are next, and then you settle down into the too plush chairs with a guitar on your lap, keyboard within reach, and everyone else settles around you. It’s as if the air around you settles, too. A calm falls over you and it’s like you’re back in your high school buddy’s basement, smoking weed and fucking around with instruments.

The music comes naturally to you then, your voice and guitar working together to show them a new song you’ve been working on. It’s soothing, soft jazz with a rock twist and it just works to put a spell on the room. It’s as if the lights dim on you, another light opening up on Patrick as he hums along with you, harmonizing.

And it goes on like that, jamming in a studio like you jammed in that basement so long ago. You’re with new friends to replace the old friends, but it still feels the same. Same energy, same tone, same memories tinged with orange-blue joy.


End file.
